A Final Farewell
by sUnKiSsT
Summary: Sam knew it was a selfish thought, but he couldn't think of a better place to die then in the comfort of his brother's arms. A good story to read when you are in need of a good cry...or if you just want some Winchester family angst!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This takes place before the end of season one, let's say just after 'Shadow'. The song belongs to Sarah McLaughlin and is called "In the Arms of an Angel"…I suggest you listen to it while reading this. This is a good story to read if you're in the mood for a good cry or just some Winchester family angst. It is a death fic.

**Rating: **K+ for blood. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

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**A Final Farewell **

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_Spend all your time waiting for that second chance  
For the break that will make it ok  
There's always some reason to feel not good enough  
And it's hard at the end of the day  
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release  
Memories seep from my veins  
They may be empty and weightless, and maybe  
I'll find some peace tonight_

The night was cold, the stars shone brightly against the velvety sky, and the light cast from the moon made the snow on the ground appear brighter than normal.

Dean Winchester however, was not admiring the natural beauty of the night. No, instead he sat in the freezing cold, cradling his only reason for living in his very arms. The disturbed snow around him was coated red with blood, but he seemed not to notice.

"It's going to be okay, little bro, you'll see." Dean whispered soothingly to the form in his arms. He ignored his own trembling and hugged his brother closer to his body, "I'm going to get you out of here and fixed up in no time."

Sam looked at his brother's face, his eyes bright and giving off a multitude of emotions. "I d-don't think s-so…" He whispered hoarsely, he could feel the blood from his stomach wound pouring out steadily, no matter how much pressure Dean put on it.

"Don't talk like that Sammy. The ambulance is on its way." Dean responded automatically, his heartbeat quickening with worry. He and Sam both knew that they were a half hour drive from the closest hospital, and in the icy roads it would take at the very least twenty five minutes to get here, even with the sirens on.

Sam knew he didn't have twenty five minutes, he could barely breathe, and he could feel blood climbing up his throat quickly. He felt his eyes drifting shut, he was _so_ tired…

"No Sammy, keep your eyes open for me okay? No going to sleep." Dean tapped his brother's pale, cold cheek until he opened his eyes again. He knew Sam was injured badly, but he refused to even think about the idea that he wouldn't survive.

"T-that wendigo was a b-bitch eh?" Sam whispered through wet gasps.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yeah, it was Sammy boy, but you did good." He responded, his voice catching slightly. Sam had saved him, had got the wendigo's attention when he had been cornered and helpless. _If only I had gotten to the flare gun sooner…_but he hadn't, and the evil bastard had managed to throw Sam into a tree and slice him up bad.

Sam smiled up at his brother; he could feel the guilt coming off of the elder Winchester in waves. "I'd d-do…it 'gain…" He choked out slowly. _You're not the only one who'd die for his brother, Dean. _

"I know you would." Dean whispered back, brushing back a piece of his brother's shaggy hair. He had managed to drag Sam back to the edge of the woods, calling for help as soon as he had reception. Ten minutes had passed since he had placed the call, and he still couldn't hear the sound of sirens.

"You just hang in there alright, you still need to help me find dad, remember?"

"'m sorry D-dean…col-cold…" Sam whispered, his pain filled eyes begging for forgiveness. He didn't want to hurt his brother, but the darkness was pulling him harder than ever before.

"No Sam, don't be sorry dude, but please, you gotta fight, _please_." Dean pleaded, holding his baby brother closer. Even as he spoke he saw blood dribble out the corner of Sam's mouth. _Oh God no. _

"You'll b-be o-okay…" Sam gasped, blood spraying from his mouth as he coughed weakly. The red droplets sprayed the white snow, making Dean feel sick. His brother was slipping away faster then he could pull him back.

"I won't be," Dean replied stubbornly with a shake of his head, "I need you buddy, I need you more than you could ever imagine." _Please, if there is any good higher power in this world, let Sammy live! Take me instead._

"Y-you will…" Sam repeated, "Tell…t-tell dad I love h-him…'kay? Does…doesn't m-matter what happened b-before…I l-love him n-no matter w-what…"

Dean was barely able to keep his own tears at bay, not wanting Sammy to see his distress. "Tell him yourself, Sammy…when we find him." He choked out. _I'm so sorry dad, I failed…I didn't protect him well enough…_

"…pl-please Dean…" Sam pleaded after another coughing attack hit him, his face pale beneath the blood that ran down his chin.

"Alright Sammy, I'll tell dad okay? I promise." Dean answered albeit reluctantly, he didn't want Sam to give up. _There's still hope…_he thought, but was dismayed when he realized it had only been eighteen minutes since he had called for help. Looking to the sky, Dean noticed dully that the clouds had rolled over and it was snowing lazily.

Sam could feel himself drifting, and he barely heard his brother mutter a heartbroken apology his way, "I'm so sorry Sammy, I never should've dragged you away from Stanford…oh god, I'm sorry!"

"N-no…D-deannn, don't say s-sorry…I…w-wanted…c-come…my c-choice…" Sam slurred, moving one hand sluggishly so that he clasped his brothers. He smiled reassuringly at Dean, his eyes slightly out of focus. Breathing was becoming harder, and he could hear himself gasping for air.

Sam slumped further into his brother's warm embrace and he whispered softly, "I…love…you…bro…" He knew he was thinking selfishly, but he couldn't help but be grateful that he was spending his final moments in his brother's arms.

_In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here  
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear  
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie  
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here_

Dean trembled at the words, he stroked Sam's forehead comfortingly before answering back, "I love you too, Sammy. Always will…always and forever." _Don't leave me, Sammy._

"D-dean…don't…d-do anything s-stupid, 'kay?" Sam pleaded softly, "…dad…n-needs you…I…don't c-care i-if...you still h-hunt or n-not…j-just live o-okay? For m-me…?"

Dean rubbed at his eyes furiously and whispered, "I…I'll try Sammy…I promise I will try, but you gotta keep fighting for me Sammy, the ambulance will be here soon."

He wanted to stay, he wanted more time with his brother, wanted to see his father again, but Sam knew that fate had other plans. "Sorry…got...g-go…n-now…" He whispered softly, "…I w-will watch o-out f-for you…p-promise. T-tell m-mom…you s-say hi…"

"No Sammy…" Dean moaned brokenly as death loomed closer, "…oh God please don't die…p-please?" He was shaking uncontrollably now, holding his brother tighter than ever before, as if it would protect him from his fate. Tears slipped unnoticed down his eyes, and his bottom lip trembled steadily.

Sam's eyes were only half open now, but he managed to lift up a heavy arm and wipe away a tear on his brother's cheek, "I'm s-sorry…bye b-brother."

Dean watched with horror as Sam went completely limp. He felt for a pulse, and let out a wail of misery when he found nothing, "No no no no no NOOOO! It wasn't supposed to be you! No, Sammy…_please_, no!" He rocked his brother's body gently, sobbing uncontrollably into the wavy brown hair.

That was how the paramedics found him ten minutes later. It took them ten minutes to pry the brothers loose, and Dean put up such a fight that they had to sedate him.

The young man woke up two hours later, still in his street clothes, and it took only seconds for him to remember what had happened. Sam was dead, _dead_ a week before Christmas. Dean jumped out of his hospital bed and stumbled out into the hallway, grabbing his jacket along the way. He knew that he needed to find out where Sammy…where Sammy's body was, but at the moment all he wanted was solitude.

Dean slipped out of the hospital unnoticed, and wandered the barren streets. As he walked he pulled out his cell phone, and with trembling fingers he called his father. _I have to tell him before I can't bring myself to do it anymore. _

Tears streamed down Dean's cheeks as he listened to his fathers voicemail click on. He took a deep, shuddering breath after the tone beeped and he forced himself to speak, his sentences coming in short gasps, "Dad? Uhmmm you ah, you gotta call me…please dad, call me okay? I…I don't know how to say this…" he let out a little sob before continuing, "…d-dad…ah, S-sammy…he uh…oh God dad, he…he's d-dead…a w-wendigo…d-dad I…I c-can't handle t-this alone…uhmmmm alright I uh, I guess just call me…okay?"

_So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn  
There's vultures and thieves at your back  
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies  
That you make up for all that you lack  
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time  
It's easier to believe  
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness  
That brings me to my knees_

Dean ended the call and collapsed onto a park bench, his tears now coming in torrents. He sat huddled on the bench for hours and reminisced, until he couldn't cry anymore. The snow still fell thick and fast around him, giving the park an enchanted look. His phone beeped in his pocket constantly, but he didn't notice.

"I can't believe he's gone…" Dean whispered to himself, "I don't know how to live without you Sammy…"

Staggering to his feet, Dean stumbled back towards the hospital. He was shivering from the cold but he didn't notice. It was an hour before the hospital came into view, and he slowly crossed the icy street. Headlights suddenly flooded his vision, and he remained still in the road as the truck screeched to a halt, its bumper inches away.

A large man jumped from the cab, and Dean immediately recognized the form of his father. _Must've tracked us back to the last set of coordinates he sent us, _he thought to himself dully.

"Dean?" John whispered, his face pale and the lines in his forehead more noticeable due to the stress.

Dean nodded his head numbly. He wanted to hit his father, wanted to scream at him for sending coordinates to this town, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

John stepped forward hesitantly and he asked softly, "Dean…where's Sam?" _Please don't let it be true, Sammy can't be dead, Dean was wrong…_He had driven at dangerous speeds to reach his sons, his eldest sons voicemail repeating through his head the entire way.

The single tear and Dean's devastated face was the only answer the father needed. John stepped closer and opened up his arms to his only remaining son. _Oh God…no…Sammy…my baby boy…no!_

_In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here  
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear  
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie  
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here_

Dean flew towards him without a thought; he buried his head into his fathers shoulder and found himself crying once again. "I tried dad…I tried to protect him…h-he saved me…the wendigo h-had me cor-cornered…I'm s-sorry."

John pulled his son back slightly and whispered guiltily, "No Dean, don't apologize. If its anybody's fault its mine…I should have protected you boys better…Sam…god Dean, the last thing I said to him was to never come back." _I wish I could have apologized Sammy…I'm so sorry son…_

Dean could see the tears in his fathers eyes and he shook his head, "Dad…Sammy, he told me to tell you the he loved you, no matter…no matter what had happened in the past…he…he loved you dad." Fat tears fell from his father's eyes before they could be stopped.

The snow swirled around the two men, who stood bathed in the glow of the headlights. "Dad," Dean spoke shakily, "I don't know how to live without him…he…he made me promise not to do anything stupid…"

John smiled lightly, "That's our Sammy, always planning ahead. Dean…we'll be okay…we'll be okay son…" _Somehow…someway…we'll get through this together. I'll never leave Dean again…never…_He wanted to break down and cry his eyes out for hours, he wanted to scream up to the heavens and get his son back, but right now he needed to be strong for his remaining son.

Dean wasn't so sure, but he nodded his head anyways. He had made a promise to his little brother, and he intended on keeping it. "Do you think…do you think he's with mom? With Jess?" He asked, his red rimmed eyes hopeful.

John's throat constricted further at the mention of Mary, but he nodded his head. "Yeah son, I do. I'm sure he's really happy up there with them." _Take care of him, Mary. _

For the first time all night, Dean noticed how cold he was, and he mumbled, "I'm going to miss him so much."

John pulled Dean's trembling frame closer and answered, "Me too Dean, me too." He held his son until dawn broke and the suns rays flooded across the sky. He knew neither of them would ever be the same again, and he had no idea of what the future would hold…but no matter what, they would work through it together.

"Goodbye, Sammy. I love you." John whispered brokenly as the snow finally stopped falling.

_**Finis

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**_I'm not a big fan of the ending, but then again, I am my biggest critic! Hope you enjoyed this. 


	2. Chapter 2

_I thought this story needed a little more, and this is what I came up with. It focuses on John and when he first received Dean's message…_

_Oh, and this story takes place BEFORE 'Shadow' – sorry for the error on that in the last chapter.

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**Until The End**

_**2 **_

John sat in a ratty chair, pouring over piles of notes and documents, all of them containing information on the demon that had killed Mary. He yawned widely and looked at the time, surprised when he realized that it was already two in the morning. He had been reading non stop for nearly three hours.

Groaning, John stood up and stretched out his cramped muscles. He walked towards the window and stared out at the swirling snowstorm. The flakes were so thick that you could barely see the motel's neon sign, which at the moment was flashing with the word 'Vacancy'.

Pressing his head up against the foggy glass, John couldn't help but think of his boys. Sam had loved the snow as a little kid, and was always dragging a protesting Dean outside to make snowmen and build snow forts. _I wonder what they're doing right now? _He mused, a small smile gracing his face when he remembered the message Sam had left him yesterday…

"_Hey dad, I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, wasn't sure when you'd get this message, so I figured I'd call early just in case…and yes, I know, I know, the holiday isn't really thought about by you or Dean but…I dunno, I guess I just wanted to call. Hope you're doing alright…wherever you are…Right then, bye…" _

John had been getting Christmas messages from Sam ever since the boy had left for Stanford (they had gotten less and less awkward sounding throughout the years), and he was sure Dean had gotten them as well. He had never mentioned getting the messages to his oldest; it just felt like a private thing between him and Sam.

The Christmas messages always put a smile on John's otherwise hardened face.

Lapsing in his thoughts, John didn't realize his cell was ringing until his answering machine clicked. Walking over to the bed, he saw that the missed call was from Dean. _He doesn't usually call this late, even if it is to boast about a hunt the two of them finished. _Frowning, he put the phone to his ear and impatiently waited for the voicemail to come on. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he heard Dean's voice.

"_Dad? Uhmmm you ah, you gotta call me…please dad, call me okay? I…I don't know how to say this…" he let out a little sob before continuing, "…d-dad…ah, S-sammy…he uh…oh God dad, he…he's d-dead…a w-wendigo…d-dad I…I c-can't handle t-this alone…uhmmmm alright I uh, I guess just call me…okay?"_

The cell phone fell from the father's hand, and he collapsed onto the bed in shock. John felt himself trembling violently as Dean's words echoed through his head. _No, that can't be right. Sammy just called me yesterday! _Tears threatened to fall but he held them back stubbornly and picked his phone up off of the floor.

John hit the number one speed dial on his list, put the phone to his ear and started lacing his boots with one hand. Dean's phone rang and rang but the boy never picked up, and the eldest Winchester knew right then and there that that was a bad sign. _He would never intentionally ignore my calls. _Ignoring the queasiness that settled in his stomach, he hurriedly gathered all of his belongings, hit redial, and marched out to his waiting truck. _He said it was a Wendigo…they must still be in Jacksonville…_

John felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought, if his boys were in Jacksonville, if Sammy was dead…_fuck I sent them on that damn hunt, fuck! _The hunter turned the keys in the ignition and peeled out onto the slippery roads, not bothering to let the engine warm up first.

The roads were horrible, and the visibility was zero, but John Winchester drove like a bat out of hell, knowing that it would take him at least two hours to reach the single hospital that occupied Jacksonville. As he drove he alternated between calling Dean (who _still _wasn't picking up) and listening to the message Sam had left him the day before.

The father clung to his youngest son's voice desperately, unable to fathom the idea that he would never hear it again. _You can't be dead, I need to tell you how sorry I am for pushing you away, I need to tell you that I love you. _"Dean overreacted, he always does when it comes to Sammy," John reasoned with himself, "He probably is just hurt more badly than usual…"

A little bit of hope flared in John's chest.

It was two hours (and five near accidents later) before John passed the town sign, but he didn't slow down as he sped through the residential streets. The snow was still thick and falling fast, but he spotted the looming hospital building as it came into view, its windows alight with activity.

His ageing heart pounded faster than it already was, and John was almost sure he was going to have a heart attack right then and there. Looking away from the hospital, he fixed his eyes back on the road and immediately slammed on the brakes. "Fuck!" He yelled out as he fishtailed on the road, stopping inches away from the man he had nearly hit.

His headlights lit the figure up, and John gasped when he realized it was Dean. Even from where he sat he could see the look on his oldest son's face. _No…no! _John growled to himself, he wouldn't believe Sammy was gone until Dean told him face to face.

John hopped out of the cab, and called to his son gently. He could hear himself asking where Sam was, and his heart sank when he saw the tear fall down Dean's haggard face.

_No, Sammy…NO!_

And as John opened his arms to his remaining son, he found himself thinking about the message Sammy had left him…the last piece of his son that he had left.

That message would remain on his phone until the day he died.

_**Finis

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**_

_Ok…so that is the real end, I swear! Hope you enjoyed this little add on! Oh, and I wrote and posted it quick, so I apolpgize if I missed and spelling or grammar errors. _


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